


Synthetic

by forsakenoathkeeper



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Reconciliation Sex, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Rough Sex, fem!reader - Freeform, it is currently just a oneshot but i may continue this no promises, pls leave a comment if you can it means a lot to me, risque but absolutely consensual, some minor body dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsakenoathkeeper/pseuds/forsakenoathkeeper
Summary: All this time, you assumed he was dead. Yet, here is he, steel and titanium, trashy mouth and bad attitude. Suddenly, it feels like old times: you fight a little, fuck a little, like no one knows each other quite as well as you do.
Relationships: Revenant x Reader, Revenant/Reader
Comments: 21
Kudos: 229





	Synthetic

"You got old," he commented lowly, spoken like a harmless observation. For some reason, it made you smile a little, maybe out of amusement. "Shut up," you spat back at him. He laughed, a rumble in his hardware that sounded more human than it did robotic. You were avoiding looking at him, struggling to grasp the fact that he was still alive, but not in the same way you were. There was no point in looking at him, anyway. There was no indication of who he once was: not on his physical form, anyway. The way he spoke, on the other hand, left you no doubt that it was him. He was always arrogant and vulgar, brutal and unforgiving. At one point, in a rage, you had called him a machine; now, you kind of regretted that statement, even if it was spoken in a moment of anger, when you couldn't possibly know this was the fate that would become of him.

You heard the faintest murmur of his footsteps as he suddenly approached you. His metallic fingers, slender, precise, grasped your chin and turned your head away from what you were working on. "Look at me," Revenant commanded. It was obvious that he didn't care if you paid attention to his face: he wanted you to look at him so he could take in your features properly. Even though he had just called you old, his first thought, upon looking at you up close, was that you were still as beautiful as you were when he was still flesh and bones - not that he would say that to you. You had aged like fine wine, with faint wrinkles setting in, some grays along your hair line, your eyes still as vibrant and expressive as ever.

Back then, you were his greatest rival, the only other assassin in the syndicate that was even remotely close to being in his league. You were very different, and yet, somehow, still the same. You always understood, or at least didn't pester him when you didn't. You two fought a lot... and you also fucked a lot.

You turned your head away, out of his touch, and looked back at the engine in front of you. "Are you satisfied?" you commented lowly. "Yes, I'm old. That happens to skin bags." He laughed, a single, brief sound that was a bit more like a scoff, amused at you mimicking his own words. Of course you watched the apex games, everyone did really; but, you never once thought that it could possibly be him, after all these years. You hunched over the edge of the truck, reaching into the engine. "I thought you were dead," you commented lowly. You could hear him utter back, "I am." Even if he was trying to be quiet, it came out strangely loud and gravely.

"You went from one of the best assassins in the world to a grease monkey," he commented, not really sounding disappointed, but amused. Even though it sounded like an insult, you weren't necessarily angry, but a little annoyed. "It's what happens when you get older. I know you never cared about anyone else-" Revenant was quick to interrupt, "no," in an agreeing tone. You continued as if he hadn't. "-most of them are dead. Lost track of everyone else. I needed something to keep me grounded. Always had a knack for this sort of thing." You stood back up and wiped your hands on a rag before tapping the hood of the truck fondly.

"They died because they were trash," he pointed out, voice like churning rocks in a concrete mixer. Your gaze shifted over to the robot and hooked on his mechanical eyes, where a crystal like octagon glowed a monstrous orange hue. It stared back, incapable of conveying emotions. You replied calmly, "none of them were as good as you, but they weren't as terrible as you think. The stakes... just got higher." Revenant scowled in response, a noise that was very human. You had heard him, during the games, state that being human was over rated; and, yet, he did a lot of very human things. You doubted he realized that, and probably wouldn't have liked it being pointed out, either. He didn’t like being reprimanded back then, either.

You opened your mouth, preparing to argue with him, to suggest that he didn't understand. But, in staring at his pale face, titanium against deep red steel, like a mask, you realized, he understood quite a bit. Maybe, in the end, he had lost the most. Being dead was probably better than-… whatever he was. "Ya' gonna say something, hah!?" he roared, stepping towards you menacingly. You didn't budge, unflinching in his sudden rage. Another very human thing: anger. You continued staring into the camera-like lenses of his eyes, trying to find his soul buried in circuit boards.

"No," you replied plainly, turning away from him again. His arm jerked forward and he harshly grabbed at your forearm to prevent you from walking away. Normally, people reacted to his touch with cries or trembles, at least a flinch. He never tried to be gentle, after all. You, however, didn't seem to be bothered by his grip. You looked back at him, a small glare on your face. "Did you look me up to yell at me?" you asked him, some venom in your tone, but otherwise calm. He grunted a little and let go of you. He rotated around slightly so he could wave his other arm in front of you. It was loose, clearly not resting properly in its socket. His control over it was normal, suggesting it was mechanical and not an issue with his circuits. Ah… so that was how he found you.

"Fix this," he commanded. You laughed a little, but took hold of his bicep with gloves hands. "I thought the apex games had engineers?" you asked, forcing some innocence in your voice. He grumbled, "if I wanted their help, I wouldn't be here. Stop yapping and make yourself useful." The corner of your lip twitched a little as his brute language. You lifted his shoulder protector to take a look at his arm socket. His eyes watched you like a prowling cat, maybe out of mistrust, you couldn’t tell.

It wasn't hard to see where it had come loose. Some of the stabilizers had loosened, an imitation of human muscle without the flaws. You let go to walk over to your work bench and retrieve a screw driver. "You don't take care of yourself, do you?" you asked as you walked back over to him. "Why the fuck would I need to do - whatever the hell you're doing?" he snapped back. "Everything wears down... machines, too," you commented lowly as you got to work.

Revenant looked away and grunted, and went still, letting you take care of it. He looked tall on TV, but it was very different when he was right in front of you, a couple heads taller, looming dangerously, forcing you to bend your neck back a little if you wanted to look into his eyes. His lean form was well crafted, which explained why he could go so long without any maintenance. Some wires were exposed that probably should have been covered up. Somehow, though, considering his attitude, you doubted that he cared.

You worked slower than necessary so you could take advantage of the situation and look at his model properly: steel, titanium, and heavy leather made up most of his frame. However, his scarf and headband, from what you could gather by looks alone, were a thick, heavy fabric. That same material seemed to be what made up his loincloth, which seemed to serve no purpose other than give him a more human appearance. He was made up gears, pullies and wires, circuit boards, power conductors and shock absorbers. He was warm to the touch, making you wonder if his coolants were working properly. Then again, that would likely be the case if he never rebooted his system.

You finished and stepped back so he could test it out. He stretched his arm and rotated it, one way, then the other, then all the way around, and then back and forth, in very unnatural directions. "Good," he growled approvingly. "Coin?" he grumbled as you walked away. "S'on the house," you mumbled as you tossed your screw driver back onto the bench. It clattered onto the metal surface loudly.

You expected that to be the end of it, for him to disappear into the night as if he was never here. You dug through some drawers in your work bench to seek out some tools and found him still standing there when you turned around. But, he wasn’t standing in the place where he was a moment ago. He was right behind you, close enough to almost trap you against the bench. You craned your neck back to look up into his eyes.

“You…” he uttered, like he was contemplating something. Your eyes narrowed slightly, wondering what he was thinking about. You contemplated telling him to get lost; but, then, his hands took hold of the front of your jumpsuit. Your hands flew up to grab hold of his wrists, an unconsciously response to being touched this way. Under normal circumstances, your training would have kicked in. You would have had him knocked on his ass and a knife in his neck. But, you didn’t have a knife on you and, even if you wanted to, you doubted you were strong enough to knock him down.

But, strangely, you didn’t want to stop him. Your hands dropped and allowed him to tear the jumpsuit wide open, breaking the zipper in the process. You stood there, watching him with a sour look on your face. You really weren’t surprised that he had figured it out. But, it didn’t make you any less disgusted with yourself.

"The stakes... were higher for you to," he uttered as your jumpsuit slid off your shoulders and gathered at your waist, exposing steel, wires and silicone. Your arms were completely synthetic and your chest and some of your shoulders were partial, likely just at the surface. Your tummy was real, soft human flesh and he assumed the same was of your crotch, seeing as it was covered by cotton shorts. The jumpsuit lowered enough to expose some of your thighs. He could see where metal met flesh, suggesting your legs had suffered the same fate.

The jumpsuit gathered at your waist and forearms, hanging pathetically. You looked away from Revenant as he continued to stare. You hated his face because you couldn't tell what he was thinking: was he disgusted or amused that this had become of you? His eyes shifted around, but they told you nothing. His lips didn't move when he talked and his brow was solid, like carved marble. "My last mission," you bluntly stated, before beginning to pull the jumpsuit off. It fell to the floor and you stepped out of it. You removed your gloves and threw them down too, before yanking off your boots, giving him a full view of all that was left of you.

He wasn’t saying anything, and in turn, you filled the silence. "I used to think this was bad - look at myself in the fucking mirror and - and..." you babbled on, voice wavering as you teetered on the edge of tears. You turned away from him and he saw your back, a metallic, shimmering, artificial spine. It was obvious that you had desperately clung to what little human flesh remained. "But, then, you come walking in here-" you turned to face him, eyes wild and teeth bared. "-and I - gods - I was the lucky one - for fucks sake..." Revenant stepped closer, eyes glowing wildly. "You're as emotional as ever," he scoffed. "I'll make them pay for what they did to us."

They… Yes. You knew exactly who he was talking about. It made you wonder how he ended up like this while you were still mostly you. You had made the decision to run, to become someone else and let go of what you once were, where he made the decision for revenge. You understood, even felt like slightly jealous of his actions. But, in the end, what would it accomplish?

You huffed and turned away from him. "That won't give you your body back," you criticized. Without hesitation, Revenant snarled, "you think I want to be human again!?" His response wasn't surprising, neither was his rage. This body was powerful; it didn't need sleep and it didn't grow old. But, it also couldn't feel comfort. You turned back around and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You try to act like this is better but all you ever do is act human." He snarled, but you kept going. "THAT - right there - the anger, the passion - you were just like that back then. You're just as human as you were before-"

"You know NOTHING of what I've been through," he roared, voice exploding from his throat like a speaker. You didn't yield, however. You stood your ground and stared into his glowing orbs, glaring at him as menacingly as you possibly could. His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to manhandle you. "Are you gonna give me a spiel about all the people you killed?" you practically screamed in his face. "-as if I haven't killed people!? You think nobody paid for this?" you wailed, gesturing to yourself, where flesh was long gone, replaced by metal.

Revenant's dominant hand shot up and gripped your face, his long fingers curled over your jaw and cheeks. His thumb dug menacingly into the flesh of your neck. That time, you did flinch, but only a little. He leaned in close, until you could see the faintly chipped paint on his jaw. "When YOU look in the mirror, you see your face staring back," he snarled. Your eyes widened a little at his statement, reading more like a confession. You lifted your hand and touched his face with the tips of your synthetic fingers. His eyes flicked down to your hand and then back up at your face, the simple gesture somehow threatening. When he didn't stop you, you cupped his jaw in full. Your touch was gentle, unlike his.

You tried to remember what he used to look like: shaved jawline, short hair, wild blue eyes. He wasn't nearly this tall when he was alive, but he always had a bigger than life attitude and commanding voice. Those things seemed to be all that remained of the man you once knew. But, at least, some of him was still there, clinging to whatever bit of humanity remained. Maybe he did see that the mere desire for revenge, rejection for the thing they had turned him into, was human.

The pad of your thumb slid along his chin, a gentle touch that he felt more strongly than being stabbed in the chest. "I don't need your pity," he spat, roughly letting go of your face and shoving it away. You let him, and your hand was removed from his face in the process. He turned away angrily, fists clenched and shoulders hunched. You kicked your clothes away and looked over at the clock hung up on the wall. Almost midnight. You had promised the owner of this truck that you would finish it tonight; however, now, you doubted that was going to happen.

When you looked back, Revenant was still standing there. You approached him and placed your hand on his back. He flinched, not at the touch, but to stop himself from a knee-jerk reaction, to turn around and rip your arm off of him. You weren’t a threat, though, so he let you do that: at least, that’s what he told himself. “I’m sorry. It’s not the same and I shouldn’t act like it is,” you whispered. God, he was warm, like a pot removed from a stove top just moments ago. “Damn right,” he snarled, turning around, which removed your hand from his body. “I fucking told you-”

“No pity. I promise,” you interrupted him, quickly. You smiled a little and he made a low, grumbling sound, something like what a beast might make, a content sound. He was quiet for a moment, staring at you, contemplating. “Why do you live in a dump like this?” he eventually asked. Your jaw dropped, more insulted by that comment than anything else he had said to you that night.

“Nothing’s wrong with this place!” you defended, crossing your arms. He laughed, loudly. “You’ve definitely changed,” he barked. “You were so high maintenance: wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.” A part of you wanted to correct him; but, you didn’t. He was right. Back in the day, you had money – technically you still did – and you enjoyed nice things: lush furniture, expensive clothing, an upscale apartment, the works. Now, you lived in a little house with a big garage. None of this drew attention. You liked the change: the less you could remember the past, the better.

But, now, the past was staring you in the face. “Settlin’ down was never your style,” he commented. It was spoken plainly, but felt like an insult. “What is that supposed to mean?” you prodded. “You workin’ a 9 to 5 with a house husband – what a fucking joke,” he replied, bluntly, rudely. You stared at him, expression shifting from annoyance to melancholy. That touched a nerve, but not intentionally.

Settling down sounded nice, honestly: having a familiar face to wake up to, someone to share the rest of your life with. But, none of your suitors… worked out. At best, they simply didn’t peak your interest. Considering the life you lived, it was hard to find interest in those who lived such boring lives, who never had suffered or struggled. At worst, they took one look at your body, what was left of your body, anyway, and couldn’t see past it. You were broken and damaged, hardly a woman to many of the men who came into your life. If they could see past it, your enjoyment with them was always short lived. But, you didn’t want him to know that.

"I’ve had my fair share,” you replied, casually. “In the end, all men are the same,” you proclaimed, a bit smugly. Revenant laughed at your comment, the amusement evident in his voice. “Sure,” he hummed, the word vibrating through his voice box like a growl. “They could satisfy you like I could? Fucking doubt it.”

Oh, so he was going there? You tried to keep a straight face, but unconsciously licked your lips at the memory. Your relationship with built on rivalry, passion, and lust. He knew where to touch you, how to touch you, where the line was and exactly the right way to dance all over it. No one ever compared, not even a little; but, you wouldn’t dare admit that to him. Back then, you two used each other when the time was convenient. You were special, too, the fiercest and most vile woman he had ever met, a demon, and he fucking loved it.

"I hardly remember what you were like," you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. Revenant called your bluff. "Bullshit,” he hissed. “None of them were as good as me and you know it,” he spelt out, low and gravely. Ahh. That was like him: war and love were the same, killing and sex equal desires, it felt as good to fuck as it did to annihilate. “You’re so arrogant,” you exhaled, spurred on by his words. You wanted to sound nonchalant, scolding even, but barely succeeded at that. He tilted his head a little, not unlike a hunter curiously watching its prey. “Thinking that only you could-”

He cut you off, "how long has it been since your cunt has been pounded?" His crude words made you tremble a little. It had been a long time since anyone dared talk to you like that. It wasn’t just that he said those words, but spoke to you with such conviction and confidence; he didn’t just give you sweet whispers that you wanted to hear, but said what he wanted, when he wanted, and meant every word of it.

"I - I don't need..." You sputtered out, words failing you when he stepped a little closer. His eyes looked downright demonic up close. It probably should have frightened you, or at least reminded you that he was a machine, steel and titanium and wires. However, you looked right through the shell, and saw the spirit within. "Or do you expect me to believe that these pussies can give it to you right?" he asked, his voice low, like he was trying to whisper, but it was still so loud. He was right, damned him. They thought you were a damaged, broken woman that needed to be held and comforted.

“You…” you began, wondering how to even ask him the obvious question. "It came with it," he answered, sounding a little annoyed. He seemed fully aware of what you were getting at. They built robots for everything these days: construction, surveillance, security… and, of course, sex. Was there really any reason to supply an assassin with such parts? Had it kept the illusion of humanity? Or had he sought out the upgrades himself, but was too bashful to tell you? Really quickly, you decided that you didn’t care. He was standing even closer now, so much so that he was almost touching you.

"No one can fuck you as good as I can," he growled, a promise and a threat in the same sentence. He was close enough that you could feel the vibration of his voice box. "You give yourself too much credit," you scolded him in a hoarse whisper. Your voice was torn between confidence implying that you weren’t affected by his words and a low octave, suggesting the exact opposite. "Ahuh," he stated bluntly, disbelieving.

He made a wheezing noise, an inhale. It surprised you, considering he didn't need to breathe. But, then, you realized he was smelling you. Immediately, he could tell you still used the same perfume, after all these years. Even if you downgraded in most ways, you still bought that ridiculously expensive perfume. It filled him with memories, of sparring matches and hours of rounds in the sheets. You always left that smell in his bed, and it would last for days on end. It was like vanilla, berries and champagne. Of course, he wouldn’t dare confess that he loved that smell.

He laughed quietly, low in his throat, if such a thing was possibly. Was it a malfunction of his voice box? Or an intentional design? “Are you sure about that?” he whispered. You flinched when his hands came in contact with your skin. He went straight for your human flesh, one hand curling around your lower back to hold you in place while the other slid around your hip. He leaned in close, right next to your ear. When he spoke, you could feel the vibrations. “I can smell your wet cunt,” he whispered lewdly.

You gasped loudly when his hand lowered from your hip, past the hem of your shorts and between your folds. His longest digit found your pearl with expert precision. His fingers were long, agile with ribbed pads intended for climbing and gripping. They proved to be good for so much more. He growled approvingly when he felt the wetness that gathered between your folds. To think, after all this time, that he could still excite you this much.

Your hands clung to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. He toyed with your pearl, circling around it and flicking at it with the pad of his finger. It didn’t last long, before he sought out your entrance. You gave no resistance and he glided in effortlessly. He laughed again, a vibrating chuckle. His digit began to glide, in and out of you, sliding on a track built inside his hand. It allowed precision without any other unnecessary movements. Lost in the sensation, you clung to him, chest pressing against his upper abdomen.

“Yeesss,” he growled approvingly. You tilted your head back in submission and felt heat burning against your throat. His exhaust must have been located on his face, or possibly his neck. It was bizarre, but possibly had a good reason, not that you dwelled on the thought for long. He continued for only a second longer before removing his hand from your shorts. He tore the article of clothing down your thighs until one of the legs ripped and allowed them to slid beneath your knee.

He lifted you effortlessly and slammed you against the nearest wall. Your body rattled as it collided with the wall, only to be immediately crushed by his: metal on metal, metal on flesh. Your eyes had been shut, but opened when he stilled. When you looked up into the glowing orbs of his eyes, you longed to lean up and kiss him; but, he had no lips to kiss, aside from the faint outline, a carving, on his metallic face. Maybe that was too personal. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss you, anyway. Maybe it was for the best, that this be nothing more than two bodies working towards the same finish line.

He hiked your leg up on his thigh to gain better access and his hand returned to your folds. You fell slack against the wall, letting out a shameless moan when his digit returned to your cavern. He continued where he left off, fingering you expertly. He couldn’t express his approval with his face, and instead was vocal to convey it to you. “Don’t look away from me,” he whispered, a low grumble. “I want to see how good it feels to be touched by me.” You obeyed to the best of your abilities, eyes fluttering open and shut again and again as he effortlessly found that sweet spot deep inside you.

“You always liked it rough,” he observed. “Is it better now? -with me like this? You like being fucked by a machine, don’t you? You’ve always been so dirty.” It was a word often used to describe things that disgusted someone; Revenant spoke it like he was thrilled, doing something wrong, oh so wrong. “What about you?” you choked out. He hummed questioningly, like a beast playing with its food. “You’re g-getting off on th-this,” you stuttered out, struggling to speak as he pleasured you. “D-defiling a meat bag.”

Revenant chuckled. He likely intended for it to come out dark and dangerous, but it sounded more soft and warm to your ears. “When I’m done with you, you’ll never fuck another human again,” he grumbled threateningly. He removed his hand from your folds and pushed the loin cloth covering his crotch out of the way. You looked down in time to see the mechanism of his mid-section rotate. It opened and spun around and extended, exposing a dark grey cock. It had a smooth, leathery look to it, long and thick without being ridiculously proportioned, curved slightly with a spear shaped tip and ribbed slightly on the underside.

He grabbed hold of your thighs and hiked you up. You aided his efforts, wrapping your robotic legs around his mid section. Your bodies made a distinct noise as they grinded together, his powerful steel like sandpaper against your smoother titanium. He slammed you against the wall again, nearly crushing you against his steel frame. Very little of you was flesh anymore and it barely seemed to phase you. You did, however, react when the tip of his cock pressed against your folds. He took a brief moment to align it properly, but only after rubbing it against you to gather slick.

You were panting, you realized, arms over his shoulders, gripping him tightly. “Better hold on. I won’t stop,” he warned. You tugged him in, until your foreheads pressed together, creating a tidbit of intimacy in the moment. His tip hooked on your entrance and entered you slightly, making you moan in response. He took that invitation and slid forward, until he was buried fully. You trembled against him, hissing quietly at the intrusion. As far as dildos went, it was definitely the best crafted one you had ever had; it filled you nicely, curved just the right way to touch that sweet spot inside you and gave such delicious friction. It felt as close as possible to real human flesh, soft leather over firm muscle. It was also burning hot.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, it began to vibrate. “Oh fuck!” you cried out. Revenant chuckled and began thrusting. Just the same as his finger, the cock slid on a track, back and forth, mechanically. The rest of him remained perfectly still. It was flawless precision, entering you at the perfect angle, accompanied with the vibrating, and left you slack jawed and practically drooling on yourself.

“That’s right,” he whispered approvingly. “Take it – taaake it. I won’t stop until you’re fucked out of your mind.” He was succeeding at that. You could barely concentrate on anything beyond the immense pleasure between your legs. It was almost too stimulating, with the friction and the vibration, accompanied with the force he applied to each thrust. But, it was perfectly rough, just the way you liked it. The vibration ensured you felt it all over, every inch of your walls, deep inside, and even on your swollen clit. “How does it feel?” he continued, pausing to growl a little. “Tell me. How does it feel to be fucked by a killing machine?” You struggled for a moment to answer, mouth opening and parting a couple times before you finally got words out. “F-feels – haaaahh…. F-f-…. good – feels g-g-… -ood.”

Your eyes fell shut and you went dead weight in his grasp, taking everything that he was giving you. He spoke to you as if he was forcing himself on you. But, your thoughts swarmed with how badly you wanted it, how good it felt. He was massive, completely shadowing you against the wall, towering over you with long limbs curled beneath your thighs to hold you up. He squeezed tightly at the metal, likely cracking the surface.

“Do-” you gasped, words spoken between pants and cries of pleasure. “Does it – f-feel… good… for… you?” There was nothing in his demeanor to indicate he was enjoying this at all. He didn’t moan or grunt beyond sounds he made to express his approval of your behavior. He didn’t tremble or jerk, or move much at all, for that matter. Was it nothing but a phallic piece of silicone strapped to his body? It wouldn’t necessarily be surprising; but, the thought bothered you.

“Yesss,” he growled, immediately silencing all doubt. “I can feel your tight cunt around me.” You moaned shamelessly at his statement, the pleasure intensifying with the knowledge that his sensors were, in some way, connected to that equipment. “Fuck – you’re wet,” he continued, practically growling into your face. “Forgot what a shameless slut you are.” You could feel his fingers digging into your thighs, though it didn’t hurt. You would most likely need to get them repaired later, probably replace the outer shell, assuming it was dented.

He chuckled lowly. “Same as everyone else, huh?” he taunted you. “Did you scream for them to?” he emphasized the last part by increasing his speed and force by just a little. Enough, though, that it rocked your body and made you cry out in delight. He reveled in having the most kills, the greatest precision, the higher accuracy, just the same as he took great pride in being the only one who could truly satisfy you. Even now, that was still true. “Hgn – n-no,” you answered weakly.

When your eyes fluttered open and met his, it was like being caught in the glow of a flashlight. His eyes were bright, glowing orbs of orange, menacing, really. But, it pleased you to know that he enjoyed the look of your face, the pleasure that danced behind your eyes, the way you would squint when he hit you just right, and the occasional winces when it hurt a little. But, then, you saw the glow stutter a little, like the flame of a candle slowing flickering into nonexistence. It was in that moment that his hips began to move for the first time since you started. It became obvious to you what he was chasing.

“Ohh,” you moaned, closing your eyes. One of his hands lifted to claw at your back. It scratched the surface of your artificial spine and left red streaks across your flesh. You returned the favor and dragged your metallic hand across his back, digging your fingertips into him. He growled approvingly and increased his speed and force, until practically his whole body was slamming you against the wall. His hand lifted from your back and wrapped around your throat. His fingers were so long that they completely enveloped your throat.

He didn’t squeeze, merely held you like that, and leaned back a little to enjoy the view. For the first time that night, he uttered your name, followed by a command, “come...” His hips pounded yours so violently that sparked shot out from where your thighs rubbed against his mid-section. He squeezed your neck, just a little, perhaps a warning for the consequences if you didn’t obey him. To top it all of, you were so wet that, now, a sloshing sound echoed between your human flesh and his leathery, artificial cock. Something, whatever it was, brought you over the edge.

You came with a short, high pitched cry, that drawled out into pathetic, brief moans between desperate panting. He continued his brutal pace, ensuring you were milked fully of your orgasm. It never seemed to end, going and going until you finally felt drained. Your eyes fluttered open in time to see Revenant come undone. The lights of his eyes flickered dimmer and dimmer until they went out entirely. His pace faltered and he started to slow down until he finally stopped and went still, silent as death. Then, like snapping ones fingers, his eyes illuminated again.

His hand was still wrapped firmly around your throat; but, you could feel his thumb nudging the back of your ear, a gentle, caressing touch. It was almost uncharacteristic, but only lasted a second. He removed you from the wall and slid you off his cock. You unraveled your legs from his back and your feet touched the ground. You were still panting, but your artificial legs weren’t tired at all and held you up while Revenant stepped away. You watched him retrieve your tattered shorts off the ground and use them to wipe your slick off his cock. He tossed them in the trash bin nearby and the mechanism at his mid-section rotated again, until the phallus disappeared into his body, and he pushed the loincloth back into place.

After you caught your breath, you looked down at your legs to see what damage had been done. As you expected, he chipped the surface and even cracked the outer frame. You probably should have been angry; but, you looked at the damage fondly, feeling satiated and pleased with the soreness left behind in your cunt. When you looked up, Revenant was standing over you, observing you silently.

“Don’t get attached,” he warned. “I’m not gonna dote on you like some cuckold boyfriend.” You shook your head a little, not entirely surprised that he would want to part like that, with something akin to a threat; but, a small smile formed on your face. “Got it,” you responded warmly. He probably wouldn’t like it, would probably scold you, or maybe be so turned off that he would never return; but, you took the chance, wanting it badly enough for the risk to be worth it. You placed one hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself and leaned up, pressing a kiss, brief and innocent, against the carved lips on his artificial face.

He reacted immediately, grunting quietly and stepping away, out of your touch. “Don’t get all sappy on me,” he scolded you, turning away and beginning a walk for the door. He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Don’t wait up… I don’t know if I’ll come back,” he warned. You understood, all things considered. He didn’t seek you out because he wanted to reconcile. Just… ships passing in the night. “I know,” you replied softly, and he was gone.


End file.
